


Mother Ship

by Lady CAMo (LadeeCam0)



Category: Aliens (1986)
Genre: F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:33:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadeeCam0/pseuds/Lady%20CAMo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate ending for "Aliens (1986)", Ellen Ripley and PFC Jenette Vasquez bond in the aftermath of saving Newt from the horrors of the Hadley's Hope colony on LV-426.</p><hr/>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh _no_!” I cried reflexively, and that pissed me off. I was a PFC in the Colonial Marines. A Smartgun operator. More manly than some of the men in my squad. Why was I crying out in panic and pain? I’d just gunned down one of those fucking bug-monsters with my pistol at point-blank range, pinning its ugly fucking head to the wall of the duct with my booted foot.

That was the problem.

As I blew its pathetic brains out its fucking acid blood splattered all over my right calf, destroying my leg. How the fuck was I going to get out of there alive?

“Vasquez!”

Great. It was Gorman the Asshole.

“Come on, Vasquez!” he said, putting his arms around me to drag me to the exit. “We gotta get you out of here.”

_No shit, we gotta get me out of there!_

“Gorman, you always were an asshole.”

Another of those _things_ appeared, clambering over the body of the one that ruined my leg, coming straight for us. Gorman unloaded three three-round bursts from his sidearm into the fucker’s head. It collapsed on the other one, their combined acid blood burning through the floor of the duct. Their bodies fell away.

I’d never admit it out loud to anyone, but this whole thing at Hadley’s Hope was the most horrifying thing I’d ever seen. How the fuck were these mindless things killing us so easily? Of course, if we’d had better leadership things wouldn’t have been so one-sided. And now Gorman was trying to redeem himself.

“Gorman! Vasquez! Come on!” Ripley screamed. I had to admit that my respect for her had really grown. She seemed like some traumatized civvie when we first met her. A consultant. Like combatants needed consultants. But she took command from Gorman and helped get us out of that first ambush. And when we found that girl, Newt, the mama bear in Ripley really came out. She was fierce when she needed to be.

“Can you crawl?” Gorman shouted while unloading his gun into some more of those _things_.

“Yeah,” I answered, emptying my gun while he reloaded his.

“Good. Get the fuck out of here!” He turned to fire some more and lob a grenade. “That’s an order, private!”

“Goddammit Gorman!” I don’t know what came over me, but I kissed his cheek before fleeing as best as I could. Shockwaves from the grenade’s explosion knocked me down, and I heard Ripley and Newt scream.

Gorman was burned from the blast of his grenade, and he was still firing that pea-shooter of his at those aliens. Yeah, he was redeeming himself. Better late than never. I got to the end of the duct and was knocked out of it by the shockwave of another explosion. The fireball I just barely escaped told me that Gorman had just detonated at least three grenades at the same time. He just bought us some time.

And paid for it with his life.

Okay, maybe he wasn’t such an asshole after all.

“Vasquez!” Hicks called out. “Can you walk?”

“Not really,” I hissed. The leg was really starting to bother me now. Yanking the bandana off my head, I used it for a makeshift tourniquet just below my right knee.

“Hicks, we’ve got to find Newt!” Ripley insisted. Part of me thought she was crazy, wanting to go back into that fucking hellhole for the girl. But at the same time I think I would’ve insisted the same thing.

“She’s right Hicks,” I said. “You can’t leave her to those fucking _things_.”

“Dammit! Here!” He gave me his pistol and all the ammo he had for it, keeping only his pulse rifle. “Get to the surface and wait for the dropship. No heroics. Your job is to keep yourself alive, understand?”

“Hicks—”

“Now!”

“Yes sir!” I barked, limping hastily to the lift cursing in Spanish the whole way. By choosing my first language I could really pour my fury into my words and hide the fact that I was starting to cry. Tears hadn’t stung my eyes in years, and this hellacious place brought them up. That, and the pain in my leg.

 _Get angry, Jenette,_ I told myself, and I did. But that anger just brought on more tears.

I had to remember that tears weren’t a sign of weakness. I’d seen a lot of gruesome shit before, but no so much so fast in so short a period of time. Our battle here was hopeless. The best we could hope for was to get away before the reactor blew. That would take care of those _things_ better than we could.

I let myself cry for a while. For Drake, who probably wouldn’t have died if I hadn’t shot that fucking _thing_ when it was so close to him. For Gorman and Hudson, who at their ends both showed more guts than I’d given them credit for. For Newt, knowing that her family and everyone else she knew in this fucking universe died horribly and that if Ripley and Hicks didn’t save her she’d be next. I cried for everyone else who didn’t make it, and for my own damn leg.

I lost all track of time, waiting there for the dropship as well as Ripley, Hicks, and Newt. But when I next saw Ripley she was supporting Hicks. His armor was gone and he was wounded. They didn’t have Newt with them. That was bad. Very bad.

Bishop and Ripley got me and Hicks into the dropship’s passenger area and we returned to the processing center. Ripley then went in alone to rescue Newt.

This was no traumatized civvie. This was a badass fighter going alone into a hive of some of the most vicious monsters in the goddamn galaxy.

But the dropship was lifting off the platform.

After inserting Ripley.

“Bishop, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Private Vasquez,” he said in that calm voice that gave me the creeps, “this platform is unstable and this area could collapse. I need to keep us airborne. I can stay nearby and when they come out we can get out of here.”

Okay, that made perfect sense. I had to trust the android because I wasn’t qualified to pilot the damn dropship.

“What can we do?” I hated feeling useless.

“The xenomorphs have shown remarkable adaptability, strength, speed, and stealth,” he explained. “I don’t want to take any chances, not after the sacrifices you and your squad mates made. When I first remotely contacted the _Sulaco_ , I patched into the mainframe and uploaded everything I’ve learned about the xenomorphs in order to reprogram some of the mobile sentries. They won’t fire on movement now, but only on targets that match xenomorph physiology. The sentries will be in the hangar when we arrive. They’ll be programmed to use flamethrowers to minimize the risk of that corrosive blood causing a hull breach.”

“What, are you expecting them to get off planet somehow?” I sneered.

“Actually, yes. It’s possible when I touch down to extract Ripley and Newt, one or more might try to stow away on board or even try to cling to the outside of the dropship. I haven’t been able to determine how long they can survive in a vacuum, so it’s possible that even clinging to the outside they could survive until we reach the _Sulaco_.”

I suppressed a shudder. No need for the android to know how human I was.

“I’ve also propagated my programming into various subsystems throughout the ship,” Bishop continued. “We’re down to almost zero crew, so I thought maybe more copies of me could help run things.”

We fell silent then and began nervously waiting for Ripley and Newt, and we didn’t talk about the fact that we had a finite amount of time before the whole place blew the fuck up. At least if it happened that way there would be a chance that Ripley and Newt would die quickly instead of—

I was _not_ even going to think about that. To distract myself I limped over to the weapons console.

“Private Vasquez, the weapons this ship carries are for large scale engagements.”

“I know that, Bishop.”

“If in the event Ripley and Newt are followed by xenomorphs it might be difficult to defend them with the arsenal at your disposal.”

“Then I’ll fire very carefully,” I snapped. “Do you really think that I’ll be so fucking careless to shoot them as they escape? And remember, if it does happen that would be kinder than letting those fucking _things_ have them!”

“I’m sorry,” Bishop replied. “I should’ve know that you’d be aware of your limitations as well as the limitations of the dropship’s weapons.”

I was really too stressed out for this.

“Just keep us as steady as you can, Bishop,” I replied.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He was right, though. This wasn’t a platform for close range fighting. I had to be very careful with my weapons choices, so I decided to limit myself to the Gatling gun and the Zeus missiles. The smoke missiles would be best for knocking those fuckers down without the risk of their acid blood flying everywhere, but they could impair Ripley’s and Newt’s vision. The aliens didn’t even seem to have eyes, so the smoke probably wouldn’t hinder their ability to attack.

My options were awful.

“Look!” I cried.

Ripley was on the platform, carrying Newt and looking hopeless. The other lift door opened and a monstrous alien appeared.

The Queen.

There was no way I’d be able to use any of the dropship’s weapons. That big bitch was just too close.

Bishop managed to maneuver the dropship close enough so that Ripley and Newt could board, and we took off for the safety of the mother ship. It turned out that Bishop’s precautions were good ideas. The fucking queen somehow managed to stow away on the dropship and attacked once the airlock on the _Sulaco_ was closed.

Everything happened at once. Bishop was ripped in half by the Queen. Newt scurried to take cover under the floor. Ripley ran for one of the power-loader garages. I knew she was resourceful, but I wasn’t sure how an exoskeleton forklift was going to help.

Bishop’s sentries were holding that giant monster at bay, but they weren’t very maneuverable.

“Vasquez, are you able to drive one of those cargo carts?” Bishop’s voice asked over the PA.

“Yeah, I can drive with my left foot.”

“Good. Get one, and get Newt to a garage. Their doors are air-tight and I think we can expel the Queen into space. I’ll have a sentry escort you.”

Getting to a garage was easier said than done, even when riding an armed escort. But the Queen seemed more concerned about Ripley. It was like the thing was actually intelligent enough to want revenge or something.

It made my skin crawl.

I got the cart and sped back out into the hangar to get Newt. The Queen had disabled one of the sentries, and was starting to focus on me.

“Newt! Climb on! Quick!”

The girl obeyed without question. Turning the cart around, I prepared to charge back to the garage.

The Queen was heading right toward us.

“Get away from them, you _bitch!_ ”

Ripley appeared from another garage in one of the power-loader. I’d never seen anyone attempt to use one of those as an assault platform, but that was exactly what she did. She was punching the Queen with that thing, even using its welding torch like a mini flamethrower.

“Get Newt out of here!” Ripley screamed.

“Not without you!” Newt screamed back.

We were starting to lose sentries, either because they were running out of fuel for their flamethrowers or because the Queen was taking them out.

“Move to the nearest garage!” Bishop’s voice boomed over the PA. More sentries, these armed with Smartguns, entered the hangar, firing at the Queen. That acid blood starting hitting the floor. “I’m patching into the dropship to use its weapons. A hull breach could be immanent, and I’ll be opening the airlock at any rate. Get to safety, quick!”

Obeying Ripley and Bishop, I headed to the nearest garage even as Newt screamed in protest. But Ripley wasn’t far behind us. Good thing too, because Bishop started to open the outer hangar doors. Anything not bolted down was getting sucked out as the pressure dropped.

We just made it to the garage as the dropship roared to life. Safe behind our air-tight door, we watched as the dropship’s Gatling gun ripped the Queen apart. Acid blood splattered everywhere, including on the door of our garage.

“Out now!” Ripley cried and we fled the little room, through another air-tight door just as the garage door to the hangar corroded through.

The dropship shut down and the last of the Queen’s body parts were sucked out into space. Bishop’s top half was still in the hangar, saved by his android’s grip being strong enough to resist the rapid change in pressure that sucked everything else out.

“I’ll commandeer a power-loader to get my torso later,” Bishop’s voice said. “But the three of you should get to the infirmary.”

“What about Hicks?” Ripley asked. “He’s still in the dropship.”

“The dropship’s hatch is open,” I said flatly. “There’s probably no air left in it.”

“Hicks!” Newt cried.

“Ripley, you could put on a pressure suit, arm yourself, and inspect the dropship,” I suggested. “Bishop can’t do it even if he remotely controls a power-loader. It won’t fit into the passenger area.”

“What about the security cameras on board the dropship?” Ripley asked.

“We could try those,” Bishop confirmed. “But that would only be effective if Corporal Hicks in in view of camera.”

“Bishop, where’s the nearest locker with a p-suit?” Ripley asked, grim determination returning to her voice. How long could she keep going? It had to be pure adrenaline by now. “And I’ll need you to guide me to an armory.” Turning to us she said, “You two get to the infirmary. I’ll be there soon.”

“But Ripley—”

“No buts Newt,” I said. “Let’s go.”

“But I wanna go with Ripley.”

“It could be dangerous,” I countered. “You need to stay here.”

“But if Ripley dies, I wanna die too!”

My blood went cold, and Ripley looked stunned. She recovered quickly, dropping to one knee and holding the girl by the shoulders.

“Newt, this ship won’t have pressure suits in your size.” Ripley couldn’t have had any way of knowing that, but I kept my mouth shut. “Vasquez and you both need to get to the infirmary. One thing at a time.” She kissed Newt on top of her head and sped off, following the directions Bishop was giving her to get the gear she’d need.

“Let’s go, Newt.”

“I wish you could carry me.”

“So do I, but right now that’s not gonna work.” Without any prompting, Newt offered herself as a crutch to help me walk.

We started making our way to the infirmary, and it was slow going. I couldn’t feel my right leg below the knee anymore, but I could vividly remember the searing pain of that _thing’s_ blood burning me. I was still hoping the leg could be saved, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

“You’re not putting all your weight on me, are you?” the girl asked.

I was _not_ going to let this child take care of me. She’d been through way too much already.

“No. I only need help balancing.” It was a lie, but she didn’t need to know that.

Finally, we were there. It was about time, too. The last of my adrenaline was wearing off.

“Okay Newt, I need you to climb into one of the med capsules.” She just stared at me. “Look, I can’t lift you in and we need to be sure you’re okay.”

“I don’t have one of those things in me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Shit! Did she have to ask that?

“I’m sure you don’t,” I replied, struggling to remain calm. “But there’s other ways you might be hurt. Stress hormones and stuff like that. Please Newt. If I don’t get you checked out by the time Ripley gets back, she’ll kill me.”

“Will she be back?”

Why the fuck was she so calm when she asked shit like that? Goddammit, she’d been through way the fuck too much. This would be so much easier if she was hysterical.

“I hope so,” I said simply.

Wordlessly she got undressed and climbed into a capsule and remained eerily calm as the lid closed over her. I was a little uncomfortable with being around someone else’s naked kid, but clothing would interfere with the capsule’s processes. They must’ve had them at the colony because she knew what to do without me telling her. The diagnostic process started, and soon she was sedated. And as Newt had assured me, she wasn’t impregnated. Ripley had gotten her out of the Hive in time.

“Thank God!” I cried, collapsing into a weeping heap. I would’ve killed her myself quickly with a shot to the back of the head to spare her from having one of those _things_ exploding from her tiny chest. That I even considered killing a child to spare her made me want to puke. But it would’ve been the merciful thing to do.

“Vasquez?”

I woke with a start, reflexively drawing my sidearm. Shit. I’d dozed off on the floor next to Newt’s capsule.

“I’m here, Ripley.”

“Vasquez! What happened?” Ripley asked, helping me into a chair. She must’ve noticed that I’d been crying because she hastily said, “Never mind. Hicks—”

“Hicks is dead,” I said flatly, and Ripley nodded. “No atmosphere, exposed to zero pressure. Must’ve been a fucking mess.” She was staring at me in horror. “Sorry! I—” And I was crying again. Seriously, what the fuck? Hadn’t I run out of tears yet? I was supposed to be too badass for this!

“It wasn’t pretty,” Ripley said. “How’s Newt?”

“She’s okay,” I sniffed. “No sign of impregnation.”

“That’s a relief. But how is she otherwise?”

I winced. Of course. Ripley had really bonded with the girl and would be concerned for more than just the possibility that one of those _things_ was inside her. We studied the readout on the capsule.

“Looks like she just needs food, water, and a shitload of therapy,” Ripley announced.

“And a family.”

I said that?

“Yeah,” Ripley agreed. “Your turn. Let’s get you in a capsule.”

“Okay,” I replied, too tired to argue.

She helped strip me out of my combat gear and clothes, both of us trying to not look at my leg. And then I was in the medical capsule, the lid closing over me.

 

* * *

 

I woke to find the capsule had amputated my right leg just below the knee. Well, I was half expecting that.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Bishop’s voice sounded from nearby. “Would you like to get up?”

“Yeah.”

“Very well.” The capsule opened and I saw clean clothes waiting for me on a chair, as well as a pair of crutches. “Ripley and Newt are in the captain’s quarters.”

It was actually the top half of Bishop in a motorized wheelchair. He’d been cleaned up and strapped into the chair, but he was mobile again. That’s when I noticed that my clothes were on a chair just like his. I suddenly wondered how many were kept aboard ships like this.

Getting out of the capsule, I got dressed, stowing the crutches on the back of the wheelchair. The short walk across the infirmary left me tired, so I just rolled to the captain’s quarters.

It was a pretty nice cabin, actually. Newt was sound asleep on the sofa in the sitting room and Ripley was sitting wearily at the table nearby.

“How long has she been asleep?” I asked as I rolled up to the table.

“Only about an hour,” Ripley replied. “I’ve got some good news. The rescue ship will be here in about a week.”

“What? I thought it would take seventeen days for them to get here.”

“You were in the infirmary for a long time, Vasquez.”

Of course. Why did I think I just dozed off, had my leg cut off, and was up and running again all in the same day?

“What about you?”

“No embryos in my body,” Ripley smiled. “The ship seems to be clean, too. Only the Queen made it aboard.” We were just silent for a while. It was weird. Newt was sleeping peacefully and Ripley was sitting there sipping coffee.

She had to be clean. If she’d been infected, she would’ve jumped out an airlock before she’d endanger Newt.

I hated thinking there were monsters hiding everywhere.

“I need a shower,” I announced and rolled toward the cabin’s bathroom. I didn’t really need one, but I wanted to be alone without actually leaving the captain’s quarters.

“Will you be alright?” Ripley called after me.

“I know how to shower.”

“You only have one leg.”

“One and a half,” I snapped. But really, she was just trying to help. And I suddenly found myself wanting her to help me. Considering how wobbly I was back at the infirmary…

“A little help might be a good idea,” I admitted, willing myself to not blush.

“Okay then.” Locking the door to the suite, Ripley checked on Newt once more then went to the bedroom and stripped. I rolled in and pretty much did the same. As I sat at the foot of the bed, Ripley approached to help me stand.

I could tell she was staring at the stump below my right knee.

“Vasquez,” she whispered.

I was suddenly tired of us calling each other by our last names.

“Jenette,” I replied. “You can call me Jenette, Ellen.”

“Jenette,” Ellen repeated, kneeling down in front of me.

“It’s something we learn to live with,” I explained softly. “The idea that whenever we go out on a mission, that something like this might happen.”

“I hope Burke died slow,” she spat.

“Me too.”

She reached out tentatively, looking up at me. I nodded, and gently she touched what was left of my right leg, cradling it lovingly as if it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

She kissed me, just below the knee. And she was crying. And then I was crying, too.

It was a different kind of crying this time. This tenderness after the brutality we’d been through since arriving here was just so touching, no pun intended. I touched her chin, lifting her face so I could see her eyes.

“Ellen.”

She raised up off her haunches and kissed me for real. We were both naked and we were kissing with Newt asleep on the sofa in the next room.

“Jenette, do you still want to shower?” Ellen asked. “You would’ve been bathed in the medical capsule.”

She was right. It wasn’t like I was still smeared by the grime and gore of the fighting.

“No, I just want to go to bed.” I couldn’t really tell what that look on Ellen’s face meant so I added, “And sleep. I’d rather not sleep alone, but if Newt needs you…”

“Let me just leave the door open,” Ellen said.

“And you won’t mind sharing a bed?”

“I’d love to, Jenette.”

God, it was good to hear my first name again. And for some reason, I loved hearing her say it.

Ellen went to turn down the lights in the sitting room, and I scrabbled under the covers waiting for her to return. I was pretty sure I was done with crying for the night, but I was tired of being strong. So I decided that if I needed to cry some more I’d just let it happen. How long had we been at Hadley’s Hope? It seemed like a very, very long time. But I knew that wasn’t true. It was just the sheer horror of what went on down there that made it seem longer.

I, PFC Jenette Vasquez, Smartgun operator for the Colonial Marines, was traumatized.

What the fuck?

Ellen returned, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Yeah, I wanted her. I wanted her bad. But now would not be a good time. It wasn’t that I was too tired, it was that I knew I was not emotionally ready for that. The lights went out and she slipped under the covers with me. Almost immediately, we were in each other’s arms, our bodies pressed up against each other.

“Good night, Jenette.” Ellen kissed me again. “Sleep well.”

With Ellen holding me, I really did think I’d be able to sleep well.

 

* * *

 

There were still nightmares that night, but every time I woke and got past the _who-the-fuck, where-the-fuck, what-the-fuck_ and realized it was over I was able to drift back to sleep. I woke up a lot that night. If Ellen slept as fitfully as me, she must’ve been waking up when I was sleeping. But she had to be exhausted. She wasn’t combat trained, and the shit she’d done was just amazing. If I hadn’t been wounded and unable to walk, I would’ve gone into the Hive with her. Yeah, it would’ve been insane, but to leave Newt to that kind of death would’ve been cruel.

It hit me again: it was over. The rescue ship would be here in a matter of days and we could leave LV-426 behind us where it fucking belonged. I spooned up to Ellen, wrapping my arms around her but taking care to not touch her breasts. Desire and love were two very different things, and I didn’t want to act just out of desire. Not yet, at least. With Drake, well, we were the best of friends who’d decided that we could have sex with each other and it wouldn’t ruin our friendship. I could tell that I was getting attracted to Ellen. Hell, I never called Drake by his first name. I decided that I was just going to focus on how warm and comfortable I was just then, and not think about sex or love.

When I got to the point where I woke up and knew I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, I propped myself up to stare at Ellen’s sleeping face. I was about to lean over and kiss her when I saw Newt. It looked like she was kneeling next to the bed with her face inches from Ellen’s. Though it felt like an invasion of privacy, there was something about the blank curious look on Newt’s face that kept me from getting angry.

“How long have you been there?” I asked her.

“About an hour, I think.”

“Mmm.” Ellen stretched against me and I did everything I could to not react.

“Are you awake Ripley?” Newt asked.

“I am now,” she yawned. Then her eyes snapped open. “Newt! What’re you doing here?”

“Did you guys have sex last night?” the girl asked bluntly. I was pretty sure that my face looked just as red as Ellen’s did. “Don’t look so surprised. All us kids got sex ed at Hadley’s Hope. It wasn’t just about pregnancy and diseases. I know what men can do together and I know what women can do together. There were gay people at the colony. They even taught us that it’s okay to not want to have sex at all.”

“No, we didn’t have sex,” I replied simply.

Ellen tried to pull the covers closer around her chest as she sat up.

“Ripley, I’m gonna grow some of those you know. I know what they are.”

“Sorry. I was in hypersleep for fifty-seven years,” Ellen explained, blushing. “Things seem to have changed during that time.”

“Ellen, life in the colonies is different than back on Earth,” I said. “Older kids help out more with younger kids in nurseries so they know about boobs, and sex ed is also taught really young as it could help with the survival of the colony. Not just for reproduction, but for mental health too. That’s why Newt also knows about people being asexual as well.”

“You call her Ellen?” Newt asked.

“That’s my name,” Ellen smiled. “Ellen Ripley.”

“And my first name’s Jenette.”

“Can I still call you Ripley and Vasquez?”

“Sure you can,” Ellen replied warmly.

“Good. Can I have breakfast now?”

“Okay,” Ellen said. She seemed to hesitate, then just threw the covers off and got up. She found some generic coveralls in a locker and I started to follow suit.

“Vasquez!” Newt cried. “Your leg!” The girl clambered up on the bed to stare at my stump, and the three of us had become very still.

Goddammit, just when I thought that maybe she wouldn’t have to see any more fucked up bullshit I make it worse by allowing her to see my leg.

“My pulse rifle was out of ammo,” I explained to Newt. “But I still had my pistol. This was while we were trying to escape through the ducts. One of the aliens attacked me real close. I pinned its head to the wall with my foot and shot it.”

“And its blood got on your leg and burned it,”

“Yeah.”

“And the medical capsule couldn’t fix it so it cut your leg off.”

I was _not_ going to cry.

“Yeah.”

She threw her arms around me, seizing me in a fierce hug.

“Newt, I’m okay,” I said softly. “We got out of there and we’re gonna be alright now. Okay?”

“Okay,” she sniffled.

“Okay. Lemme get dressed now. You guys go on ahead. I’ll be there soon.”

Wordlessly, she went over to the wheelchair and brought me the clothes Ellen left there last night. That bothered me. I didn’t want either of them treating me like I was disabled. Yeah, the bottom half of my right leg was gone. But I was still PFC Vicious Bitch!

“Come on, Newt,” Ellen said. “Let’s get you some breakfast. We’ll be in the mess.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

They left me, and I settled down to think for a moment.

There was no way in hell I was going to let Newt take care of me. Ellen, maybe. But Newt? No way. I thought about leaving the chair in the cabin and only using the crutches, but I was still feeling a little unsteady. And I suddenly didn’t want to send the wrong message to Newt. I’d never ask her for help. But she needed to know that it was okay to not be perfectly strong all the time.

Did I really just think that?

Yeah, I did.

Because it was true.

Newt had been strong for too long. She needed to be a child again, if that was even possible. Her family was dead, all killed by those fucking _things_. Would it be possible for her to ever have a childhood?

Could I somehow help with that? Could Ellen?

Rolling into the mess hall, the scents of breakfast made me realize just how hungry I was. That was a welcome distraction. I was tired of the thoughts replaying in my mind. I rolled over to fill a tray with food and bring it over to Ellen and Newt. Bishop was there too, sitting somewhat detached and working with a minicomp. But the chair’s controls kind of prevented me from really getting close to the table. So I parked the chair near the door, grabbed the crutches, and _walked_ over to join them. I decided that bacon and coffee were the two most valuable things in the galaxy.

Well, two of the most valuable things. I was getting seriously attached to both Ellen and Newt. And I really liked watching the two of them together. They were totally bonding. It was as if they’d always been together.

Which made me think of something.

“So how long was Newt in a medi cap?”

“Only about a day,” Ellen replied.

“And how long were you in one?”

“Me? I wasn’t.” It got quiet and Ellen added, “If I’d been impregnated, you’d both be dead by now.”

“That’s not what I meant, Ellen,” I soothed. “You should get yourself checked out too. Too much adrenaline can fu—I mean—mess you up. It wouldn’t hurt to be sure.”

I censored myself because of Newt. Why now? If those F-bombs Hudson dropped had been explosives, he would’ve cleared the Hive by himself. And Newt had heard plenty of those. It was like I’d gone all maternal all of a sudden.

Wait. What?

Me? Maternal?

“Well, I wasn’t wounded or injured,” Ellen retorted.

“It would still be a good idea to have you evaluated as a precaution,” Bishop said, finally joining our conversation.

When Newt got up to take her tray back for seconds I kind of whispered to Ellen, “It would set a good example for Newt. She’s been through too much already. She needs to know that it’s okay to not be strong sometimes.”

Newt returned with her weight in food on the tray. Ellen looked at the girl, then at me, and seemed to deflate a bit. “Okay. I guess a check-up is a good idea. But don’t let Newt have any dessert after lunch. That’s only for after dinner.”

“Aww!” Newt exclaimed as I winked at her.

“I saw that, Jenette.”

“So long as she balances dessert with the right amount of—”

“Save it, Bishop.” Ellen shot the android a withering look, and me and Newt snickered.

“Bishop, can we play basketball again after breakfast?” the girl asked excitedly.

“How the hell do you move fast enough in that chair?” I asked.

“I don’t use this motorized one,” Bishop explained. “It can’t turn fast enough. So I use one of the push-chairs.”

“But you’ve got perfect aim!” I protested. “And you’re stronger! That’s not fair to Newt!”

“We changed his programming,” Newt proclaimed happily. “He showed me how to program him to lose perfect sight of the basket and how sometimes he throws too hard and sometimes not hard enough.”

“It’s all randomized,” Bishop added. “Additionally, I’m not permitted inside the three-point line when I’m on offense, and a three-point shot for me has to be from half-court at the very least.”

“He usually wins anyway,” Newt pouted.

“Finish your breakfast, or just put the leftovers away, and we can go play.” The android actually sounded excited.

She bounded out of her chair, taking her tray to put the food away, and bounded toward the door.

“Come on, Bishop!” Newt ran off, with Bishop following closely after her.

“You trust him,” I said simply.

“Yeah, I do,” Ellen confirmed. “He’s really good with her, too. That thing about altering his programming so he’d be less accurate? It’s true. He’s been teaching her, giving her lessons. In fact, a lot of their basketball playing has been a subtle physics class.”

I nodded. “I guess she should be in school.”

“Bishop and I talked about that. I mentioned that I wanted to put some normalcy in her life and he suggested that we play with her in a way that would help teach her. Less structure to try to ease her back into things.” Ellen got quiet for a moment. “She doesn’t always sleep through the night. Bishop stands, well, actually sits guard outside the captain’s cabin to be sure she doesn’t go exploring.”

“Why?”

“She got lost one night and it was really triggering for her. She didn’t leave my side for two days after that.”

“Newt has seen more than anyone her age ever should’ve seen!” It pissed me off so much, what she’d gone through.

“Yeah, and it’s been a long time since I last raised…”

“Raised a child?” I didn’t know Ellen had any kids.

“My daughter died of cancer while I was adrift in hypersleep.”

I seized her hand across the table. “Let’s raise Newt! As our daughter. You and me.”

“It’s possible she has grandparents on Earth who might want to raise her considering their kids, Newt’s parents, are dead now.”

Hearing that was like a sucker punch, and that’s when I realized just how attached I’d gotten to the girl.

“But—”

“It’s something we have to consider, Jenette.”

Ellen said “we.”

I felt like a girl again, falling in love for the first time. While that was cool in a way, it was so totally unlike the woman I’d grown into. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. It wasn’t as if being a Colonial Marine meant I’d become incapable of love. Not at all. But I was a woman, and not a girl anymore. Feeling suddenly giddy was embarrassing.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

Just as we were about to step into the corridor, Bishop rocketed past in a push-style wheelchair, his android’s muscles propelling him along a lot faster than if he’d been using a motorized one. Sitting on the chair, strapped to his chest, was Newt, squealing with delight.

“What have I told you two about that?” Ellen barked as they turned a corner with precise control.

“Another physics lesson?” I asked, smiling.

Ellen sighed. “Actually, yes.” We started walking. “This time about acceleration and braking to take turns, trajectories, center of gravity, momentum. I can’t stop them from doing it.”

“Well, it keeps her busy.”

“Yeah,” Ellen agreed. “And she really needs that right now.”

“And you need to be checked out,” I announced as we arrived at the infirmary.

With a heavy sigh, Ellen got undressed and climbed into a medical capsule.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me goodnight?” she murmured.

I leaned over and put a kiss right in the middle of her bush. Then I kissed my way up her belly, between her breasts, up her throat until our lips met.

“Your timing sucks, Vasquez,” she scolded me. I was really pleased by the flush of her skin.

“We’ll talk about sucks when you get out.”

“Don’t you mean we’ll talk about licks?”

“Sucks, licks, nibbles. We’ll have a lot to talk about.” I winked wickedly as the lid closed. Ellen had just enough time to give me the finger before she was sedated. “We’ll talk about fingers, too.”

Grabbing my crutches, I went off to the ship’s rec center to watch Bishop play with Newt.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bonds between Ellen Ripley and Jenette Vasquez, as well as with Newt and Bishop, continue to grow as they await the rescue ship.
> 
> * * *

I’d gone back to the mess to get my chair because I was getting tired from using the crutches. Obviously, they were going to take some getting used to. When I rolled into the ship’s rec center, Newt ran right up to me.

“I’m worried about Ripley,” she said. Her calm concern was a sharp contrast to the fact that she was dripping with sweat and had just been yelling happily as she and Bishop played basketball.

“Excuse me, but I should go to the bridge and go through the standard daily system health checks,” Bishop said, leaving us. Newt probably wasn’t aware of it, but Bishop could remotely access the ship’s mainframe. He didn’t need to go to the bridge. He was intentionally giving us space. The android kept surprising me with how human his gestures could be.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” I replied to the girl. “Ellen can’t possibly be carrying an alien embryo, so she’s probably no worse than you were. And it’s been more than two weeks since we left Hadley’s Hope. Her system has probably balanced out by now. It’s just a check-up more than anything else. She’ll probably be out before dinner.”

“And I can’t have any dessert before then,” Newt pouted.

“Maybe we can have an afternoon snack,” I suggested mischievously. “But first, I think you need to get cleaned up.”

“Okay,” she said brightly and bounded right into my lap. “Please?” Her smile was so disarmingly cute I was afraid I’d puke.

“This chair won’t be as fast as Bishop pushing one, you know.”

We rolled to the captain’s cabin and Newt went about getting showered. I contacted Bishop.

“What’s the status of the rescue ship?”

“The word from USMC command is that it should be here in the next three days,” he replied. “They’re pushing their primary reactor to one hundred fifteen percent in an effort to get here faster than normal hyperdrive speeds.”

“A hundred fifteen percent?” I whistled. “That’s pretty damn risky. They really want to get here fast.”

“There appear to be various reasons for that,” Bishop explained. “They want to be sure that the infestation has been contained. And they want the site left _in situ_ for their investigation. But those goals are secondary to rescuing you, Ripley, and Newt. The message was very clear: the safe evacuation of the three of you is their first priority.”

“Is Hicks going to be left _in situ_ as well?”

“No. Corporal Hicks’ body has already been moved to a medical capsule and put into stasis.”

I nodded. “Good. What about you?”

“I’m property of Weyland-Yutani, and all of my records regarding what’s transpired since we arrived at LV-426 have already been uploaded into the _Sulaco_ ’s mainframe,” Bishop replied simply. “It’s possible that I’ll either be repaired or permanently deactivated. At this point, there hasn’t been any mention either being carried out.”

“And you didn’t ask?” Yeah, Bishop was basically a robot and not really capable of dying because he wasn’t really alive. But still…

“It didn’t seem to be a necessary question,” he replied simply. “I was commissioned for a specific purpose and that purpose is coming to a close. Without an objective, I don’t have a reason to exist. My remaining undamaged components could be better used elsewhere. It all depends on what the Company wants.”

Bishop was a synthetic. I knew that. But godddammit, he was as much a part of this crew and my squad as any of the humans. Hell, he was our XO, even if he was Weyland-Yutani property.

I turned away from the comm camera so that he wouldn’t notice the tears that were threatening to start. Seriously, was I that traumatized? Bishop was an android, it wasn’t like he was a real per—

Holy shit, I almost thought that Bishop wasn’t a person. Of course he was! He was a synthetic person, designed and built so that he’d look and act just like a human, but he was a person!

“If it’s acceptable, I’m going to remain on the bridge for a while,” he continued. “My fuel cell is damaged and I need to recharge. Normally I can run for more than an Earth year before that becomes necessary, but—”

“Of course it’s acceptable, Bishop,” I said, turning back to the comm set. “We’ve got the mainframe as well as copies of your AI spread throughout the various subsystems. You’ll be okay, though, right? It’s not like you’re at critical power loss?”

“I’m uncertain, Private.” I didn’t like the way he used my rank. That was too official. “As the executive officer, I now place you in command. All of my copies in the _Sulaco_ ’s subsystems will treat you as the commanding officer from this point forward.”

Shit. Shitshitshit.

“Very well, XO Bishop.” I replied formally. “I relieve you of all responsibilities until such a time as you feel you will be capable of performing them without causing harm to Ripley, Newt, myself, the ship, or yourself.”

“Thank you, ma’am. Bishop out.”

The comm set went dark and I didn’t really have a chance to think about our conversation.

“But he can’t die, right?” I spun around to see Newt wrapped in a towel, staring wide-eyed at me. “Bishop is a robot, so he can’t really die. Right?”

“Androids like Bishop can become damaged to the point where it’s not possible to repair them,” I replied carefully.

“Yeah, but if he’s in all of the ship’s computers then they could just build another Bishop body and install his memories into the new Bishop brain.”

It was unnerving the way the girl would stay so calm while talking about shit like this. It was as if she was talking about saving the life of a friend. But then again, she was. Bishop and Ellen and me were the only people left in the galaxy that she knew.

“Vasquez?”

“They could if they wanted to,” I agreed. “It’s hard to say, Newt. Bishop isn’t a free person like you or me or Ellen. He’s property of the Weyland-Yutani Corporation. If they decide to permanently deactivate him, they can do that.”

It seemed like her calm was finally breaking. Her lower lip was trembling ever so slightly.

“Ellen is a private citizen and can do whatever she wants,” I told the girl. “I’m a marine who’s still on active duty, at least until USCM command sees that I’m missing part of my leg. Then they’ll probably discharge me and I can be a regular citizen like you and Ellen. But Bishop is a machine, a machine designed to act just like a real person—”

“He is a real person, goddammit!”

“Watch your language!” Wait. Was that maternal command really mine?

“You and Ripley say it all the time,” Newt retorted.

I thought about the crucifix hanging from the chain around my neck. What did I really believe? Was it just decoration? Was it something I did to honor the traditions of my birth family? Or, did I really hope that maybe there was something beyond this life? At any rate, I wasn’t going to have a debate about taking the Lord’s name in vain with a third grader. Especially when I wasn’t sure which side of the debate I was on anyway.

“Ellen and me shouldn’t be saying it either. Some people would think it’s disrespectful.”

“Turning Bishop off and throwing him away is disrespectful, too!” Newt fired back, fleeing to the bedroom in tears.

“Shit.” Grabbing the crutches, I chased after her.

Newt was crying silently, and I wondered at that. Her moods seemed to calm too quickly. I thought I was traumatized? I had nothing compared to the girl angrily yanking on fatigues that were only a little too big for her. In fact, they looked like—

“Yeah, they’re yours,” she confirmed. “Bishop—” she sniffed loudly “—took a bunch of your stuff and altered them so they’d fit me.”

“I’m not that short,” I muttered.

“You’re shorter than Ripley.” Before I could think of a snappy reply Newt added, “Will you show me around the ship?”

“Of course. Let’s go exploring.”

“Are you going to take your chair?” she asked with concern in her voice.

“I probably need to get used to walking with crutches,” I replied, trying not to sound too tough. “I think a short tour between now and lunch will be okay without me getting too tired.”

“Can I see the bridge?”

I paused at that. Bishop was on the bridge, plugged into a power socket. I wanted to protect her from seeing him like that. But at the same time, she wasn’t stupid.

“Sure. Let’s go.”

As soon as we were on the bridge, and as I expected, Newt went straight to Bishop.

“It’s like he’s sleeping,” she commented.

“Well, in a way he is,” I confirmed. “Humans recharge by eating and drinking as well as sleeping. When synthetics are plugged in like that, it’s like they’re eating, drinking, and sleeping all at the same time.”

“So he’ll wake up?”

“Let’s check.” I led Newt to a terminal and called up the synthetic diagnostic program. “Yeah, he’ll wake up. He’s right about his fuel cell being damaged, though. Normally he can run for about four hundred days before needing to recharge.”

“But now, it’s only forty-two days,” Newt said, reading the screen.

“And since it’s about a fifty-three day journey from here to Earth, Bishop will probably be in hypersleep with us.”

“What if I don’t want to be put into hypersleep?” Newt asked in a small voice. It was a relief to see that her ability to hide her fears was slipping. Kids her age should be freaked out by something like hypersleep.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Usually humans are put into hypersleep so that it’s less of a drain on life support and provisions. We were all in hypersleep during our trip here from Earth.”

“Even Ripley?”

I had to smile at her hero worship.

“Yeah, even her.”

“Can we go check on her,” Newt asked, still sounding very small.

“Sure.”

We made our way to the infirmary, and I led her straight to Ellen’s medi cap, trying not to blush as I remembered how I kissed her goodnight.

“Hello,” Bishop’s voice greeted us from a nearby console. “Are you here to check on Ripley?”

“That’s right,” I confirmed.

“Seventeen thirty-three,” the girl read. “That means Ripley will be awake in time for dinner!”

“Yeah,” I said. “And it looks like she’s pretty much okay. Some elevated stress hormones and a little dehydration. If she went into a medi cap right after we got back on board, right after a fight, it probably would’ve shown she was worse than she is now. But not much worse, I think.”

“Well, she took care of you first,” Newt explained. “Ripley told me all about it when I got out of my medi cap. She and Bishop spent some time checking out the ship before she brought him to the machine shop. It was like he was passing out. I didn’t know robots could do that.”

“They can kind of bleed, but it’s not really blood.”

“Correct,” Bishop’s voice said. “If synthetics lose enough of their circulatory fluid, it can cause problems similar to a human loosing too much blood. Also, my body had been partially damaged by the rapid decompression when the hangar doors were opened.”

“Yeah, I remember that stuff when the Queen attacked you,” Newt said, then got quiet. She turned to me and asked, “If the airlock being open killed Hicks why didn’t Bishop die? Is it because he’s synthetic?”

“I can answer that,” Bishop’s voice said. “Not all of the atmosphere was lost from the hangar and the dropship, and the hangar doors were still airtight. Those doors closed in time to prevent my body from being permanently damaged by the loss of pressure. But Corporal Hicks was already seriously wounded. He had been weakened to the point where he wasn’t able to survive the ordeal. If he’d been as healthy as Ripley, he would have survived.”

“Thank you, Bishop,” I said to the console. It was good to know the whole story, but it was still a gruesome way to go.

“I’m hungry,” Newt said suddenly. “Can we have lunch now?”

“Okay. You should probably have your leftovers from breakfast, though.”

“Aww, can’t I save them for dinner?”

“What for?” I really didn’t understand the question.

“Because it’s cool to have breakfast for dinner!” The girl actually rolled her eyes as if she’d said something completely obvious and I was a dumbass for not knowing that.

“Why not? Let’s go.”

“Enjoy your lunch,” Bishop’s voice said as we left in the infirmary.

Though I was starting to get tired, I didn’t feel like going all the way to the captain’s quarters to get my chair first. I tried to hide this from Newt, but by now I knew that she noticed a lot of small details.

“Do you cry, Vasquez?”

“Yeah, I do. I hadn’t in a long time, but…”

“But what?”

I paused right there in the corridor. If I could’ve gotten back up easily, I would’ve knelt down to put my eyes on her level just the way Ellen would.

“What happened at Hadley’s Hope was scarier than anything I’d ever seen,” I told Newt truthfully. “Hicks ordered me to get to the surface after I’d been wounded and I cried while waiting for the dropship. I cried for you, Ripley, my leg. I also cried for my squad mates, especially Drake.”

“Who was Drake?”

“He was another heavy weapons specialist, like me,” I said, trying not to be too prideful.

“Was he your boyfriend?”

“Not exactly,” I replied. I was going to leave it at that when I remembered what she’d said about sex ed in the colony. “Drake had a boyfriend back on Earth, but he was also curious about what sex would be like with a woman.”

“He didn’t know?” Newt asked. “Was he gay?”

“He thought he was, at first. Eventually I got to meet his boyfriend and we talked about me and Drake … you know.”

“Having sex?”

“Yeah.”

“So Drake was bisexual, like you and Ripley?”

“What makes you think that Ellen and I are both bi?”

“Well, I know Ripley had a daughter,” Newt explained. “And I know she had a husband for a while. And you two were sleeping naked last night, even if you didn’t have sex. You must be in love or you would’ve been wearing something in bed.”

It was official: I’d become a prude almost overnight. I was suddenly embarrassed to be talking about sex so openly with Newt. She was making some assumptions about how bisexuality worked, but she pretty much had me and Ellen figured out.

“Yeah, um, Drake was bi. And while we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, we were lovers. So I cried for him. I cried after the medical capsule confirmed you hadn’t been impregnated by those aliens. I was just so relieved that I couldn’t help crying. And then I cried again just before Ellen and me went to bed last night.”

“Why?”

Sigh. “I was getting ready for bed and she saw my leg. Ellen knelt down and cradled it like she was cradling a baby. When she started crying, I started crying too.”

“Why?”

I thought kids grew out of the _why_ stage by this age. How should I answer that? Thinking about the way she seemed so calm but her calmness was starting to break down, I chose my words carefully.

“I think because we’d both strong for so long that it finally caught up to us. Newt, there are times when we need to be strong to get something done. But there are times when it’s just as important to stop being strong and just let yourself fall apart.”

I could hardly believe I’d just said that.

She just nodded and we resumed our journey to the mess hall. Lunch was quiet but not really awkward. It was probably going to take some time before Newt could be less guarded about her reactions. Suppressing emotions probably kept her alive when those fucking _things_ overran Hadley’s Hope, destroying her home and everyone she loved.

Shit, just thinking about that was going to make me cry again.

I was tempted to let that happen. After all, I’d just been telling her that it was okay to cry. But I didn’t want her to try to comfort me, and she still seemed like she wanted to make things better. For me, for Ellen, and even for Bishop. I couldn’t let that happen. Newt was a kid and needed to be a kid. I couldn’t let her see me cry just yet. Maybe when Ellen was there too, but not before.

“I wanna take a nap,” Newt announced as we finished lunch, and I was grateful because she didn’t ask for the dessert that I wasn’t supposed to give her. “Will you nap with me, Vasquez?”

Like I could say no to a request like that.

“Yeah, I’d like to rest, too.”

And that was the truth. Using the crutches when I’d been so used to being able-bodied was really tiring. It was another thing to balance, though: letting Newt see that it okay to not be strong but also not letting Newt try to take care of me.

Soon we were back in the captain’s quarters, which I guessed were technically my quarters now that Bishop placed me in command, and curled up in bed. I remember her snoring softly before I drifted off.

 

* * *

 

I woke to the sound of the cabin door closing. Reflexively, my eyes darted to the bedside table where my sidearm was. Could I get to it fast enough if—

“It’s only me,” Ellen said.

“Sorry. Reflex.” I sat up carefully, trying not to wake Newt. Looking at the chrono I said, “You’re out early. The medi cap said you’d be in there till about seventeen thirty.”

“I guess I didn’t need all that much work,” Ellen replied, sitting at the foot of the bed. “The report showed that my processing time was updated twice while I was in there.”

“That makes sense,” I said. “You hadn’t been wounded or anything.” Secretly, I wondered if I should check the report myself, just to be sure. Dammit! I hated thinking there were monsters everywhere.

“Too bad you’re all tangled up,” Ellen murmured. “We could’ve picked up where you left off this morning.”

I was sure I was blushing big time.

Newt yawned and her eyes fluttered open. “Ripley! Is it dinner time all ready?”

“No,” Ellen smiled. “The medi cap let me out early. About three hours early.”

“Well, the console said you were mostly okay,” Newt pointed out. She was just so trusting. It didn’t occur to her that the medical capsule could make a mistake. But at the same time, I hadn’t heard of a medi cap screwing up before. At least, not the models we had on the _Sulaco_. “Do you think Bishop is done recharging?”

“His fuel cell?” Ripley asked.

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “He plugged in and shut down not long after you went into the infirmary.”

“Well, let’s ask him!” Newt suggested. “Bishop!” she called out.

“He won’t respond,” Ellen said. “I told him that he wasn’t supposed to monitor the captain’s cabin unless there was an emergency. We’ll have to use the comm set in the sitting room.”

We trooped out of the bedroom and soon had Bishop’s avatar on the comm screen.

“The fuel cell is just about done recharging,” the construct said. “Another eighty-four minutes and the process will be complete.”

“And then you’ll be good for forty-two days, right?” Newt asked eagerly.

“It’s difficult to be precise, but that’s a reasonable estimate.”

“Any further communications from command that I should know about?” I asked the construct.

“There haven’t been any communications since the last update,” Bishop replied. “The rescue ship should be here in a little over two days, if it remains on schedule.”

“And then we go to Earth?” Newt asked.

“Probably not right away,” I said. “But yeah. Then we go to Earth.”

“Thank you, Bishop,” Ellen said abruptly. “That’ll be all.”

“Belay that,” I countered. “Ellen, while you were in the medi cap Bishop placed me in command. Because of his damaged systems, I’ve relieved him of his duties as Executive Officer until he feels he can perform those duties without damaging himself, the ship … or us.”

“It’s the best decision,” the construct replied. “I’m nominally the science officer, but Private Vasquez is in command. That’s been recorded in the ship’s log.”

“So as of now, I’m appointing you, Warrant Officer Ellen Ripley, as my second-in-command of the _Sulaco_.”

“Understood,” Ellen replied simply.

“Oh, newt?” Bishop’s avatar said, suddenly full of excitement. “I found some games in the entertainment system in the crew lounge. It has some of the most popular games of the last two hundred years. Classics like Chess, Mah-Jong, Bakgammon, Tetris, Doom, Halo, not to mention some of the ones you might have played before.”

“Cool! Can I go to the crew lounge? I have the location tracker.” She proudly held up her right wrist. “You’ll know if I go anywhere else. Please?”

“The ship is secure and clean,” Bishop said, and we all knew that he meant there weren’t any of those _things_ on board.

“Okay, you can go,” Ellen said.

The girl squealed, kissed both of us on the cheek, and ran off.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you, Bishop?” Ellen asked.

“Yes, I did. There are actually two vessels en route. The first is a USCMC ship, which will indeed be here in a little over two days. The second is a Weyland-Yutani vessel.”

I felt my lips curl at that name, and Ellen bristled.

“It’s quite likely that Weyland-Yutani will try to take custody of me, especially considering that I’m both damaged and have been officially relieved of duty. That vessel should arrive about a day and a half after the Marines do.”

Ellen and I had to be very careful with how we replied. Every word uttered over the ship’s comm system, ever gesture recorded by the comm and security cameras would be considered official ship records.

“The Weyland-Yutani vessel sent a message that is explicitly addressed to yourselves, and I may not open the message.”

“But once we play the message, it’ll be stored in ship’s logging system?” Ellen asked.

“Correct.”

“Thank you, Bishop. That’ll be all,” I said. “You’re dismissed.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay,” I said to Ellen, “let’s play this private message.” My normal comm password let me access it, and a man’s face appeared on the screen. He looked older than us, and was dressed in a standard business suit.

“Private Vasquez, Warrant Officer Ripley,” his voice greeted us formally, but with a certain warmth. “My name is Ford Elgar, and I’m with Weyland-Yutani. I am, well, I _was_ Carter Burke’s superior. First, let me extend on behalf of the Company our deepest condolences and regrets for the situation Mr. Burke put you in. We’ve received the preliminary report from the _Sulaco_ ’s Executive Officer, Lance Bishop, and have reviewed it. What this report suggests is that Mr. Burke acted outside the standards of the Company and in a manner that was completely against what Weyland-Yutani stands for.

“I would like the opportunity to interview both of you as well as the lone survivor of the colony, a girl by the name of Rebecca Jorden, I believe. Additionally, the Company is prepared to compensate the three of you for any and all medical expenses you might incur as a result of this incident, regardless of whether or not Mr. Burke is guilty of the allegations put forth in XO Bishop’s report. I’m looking forward to meeting you, and again please accept my apologies.”

When the screen went dark, Ellen nodded toward the bedroom.

“If there are any security cameras or sensors left active in this room, I haven’t found them,” she said grimly. “Now, what do you think about Elgar’s message?”

“I smell a rat.”

“Totally,” she replied. “He’s going to use Burke as a scapegoat, and the compensation he’s offering will be to buy our silence.”

“I’ve dealt with a lot of assholes,” I said. “But do you really think that this Weyland-Yutani company would actually send an entire colony of people to their deaths for bio-weapons research?” I really didn’t want to believe that. “Yeah, I think this Elgar guy is a complete dick, and I wouldn’t trust him any farther than I could kick him up a ventilation shaft. But do you think that maybe Burke really did act on his own? You know, some kind of big-ass commission if he got one of those _things_ himself?”

Ellen let out an explosive sigh. “I really want to believe that Burke was behind it all by himself. But some of the things that synthetic Ash said makes me think that this whole goddamn company really is behind it.”

“That reminds me,” I said, not really trying to change the subject. “Newt said ‘goddammit’ earlier today.”

“She did?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Maybe we should watch our mouths around her.”

“Which reminds _me_ ,” Ellen murmured. “I think there was something you were doing with your mouth earlier that we were supposed to be talking about.”

I smiled and checked the chrono.

“We got some time before dinner. You wanna eat something?”

 

* * *

 

I really hoped we didn’t look as disheveled as I felt when we met up with Newt in the mess. The way she kept darting glance at us, smirking, and looking away suggested that my worst fears were true, that she’d figured out we’d gotten busy.

Okay, so that wasn’t even remotely close to my worst fears. But I didn’t want to think about _those_.

Just like she said, Newt was having breakfast for dinner. Ellen dialed up some pancakes and coffee. I decided on a big platter of fish and chips. Yeah, I wasn’t having breakfast for dinner; I was having Drake’s favorite. It was my culinary memorial to him.

“Bishop said there was laser tag stuff in the rec center,” Newt said in between stuffing her face with food.

“That’s right,” I agreed.

“Can we play after dinner? He promised that he’d just sit in one place and snipe at us.”

Under different circumstances, I might have thought it was a fun idea. But now I was little on edge. I couldn’t help but think that maybe the android had figured out how to turn the toys into actual directed energy weapons and that the Company was going to use him to kill us. But there what that part of his programming that said he couldn’t allow humans to be harmed. Bishop wasn’t an A/2. In theory, he could be trusted.

“Newt, if it’s all the same, I’ve had enough of shooting at things for a while,” Ellen said simply.

“Okay,” the girl replied glumly. Still, she seemed to accept Ellen’s refusal. There was serious hero worship there, and I wondered if Ellen was aware of that. What was I thinking? Of course she was! Ellen wasn’t stupid. The question was, was she using that hero worship to her advantage.

“Vasquez would probably beat us anyway,” Newt added, and I realized that she was probably hero-worshipping all of us who came to her rescue.

Ellen looked sidelong at Newt, then at me. It was all I could do to not start grinning like the Cheshire fucking cat. But at the same time, I felt bad for the girl. It had to be pretty boring for her on a battleship with two adults and one damaged android. There wasn’t anyone her age for light years, probably, and it wasn’t like the _Sulaco_ had toys and art stuff. And that was on top of the fact that everyone she’d ever known was dead. That Newt hadn’t gone stir-crazy yet was amazing. There must’ve been more stuff in the rec center than I thought. Either that, or Ellen and Bishop were just doing a great job keeping the girl occupied.

Bishop joined us in the mess as we were finishing up dinner.

“Bishop!” Newt shouted happily and darted over to give the android a big hug.

“Hello Newt,” he smiled. Really, his programming had to be more sophisticated than I realized.

“Ripley and Vasquez don’t wanna play laser tag,” Newt pouted. “Could we keep working on the, uh, sentry thing?”

“If you mean the mobile sentry that you two are modifying into your own personal go-cart, I know about that already,” Ellen said.

“Bishop those things have guns on them!” I cried. His brain must’ve been more fried than I thought.

“Mine doesn’t,” Newt explained. “We took one of the sentries the Queen damaged and we’re rebuilding it. Instead of having weapons, it’ll have sensors and stuff. It’s going to be my exploration buggy! We’re still working on the cameras and mics. Can we go work on it Bishop?”

“Sure we can, if Ripley and Vasquez don’t mind.”

“Mom—”

We all froze.

“Moms,” Newt began again, “can I go with Bishop to the machine shop?”

Newt just called Ellen and me her moms, and I lost the ability to speak.

“Yes, baby, you can,” Ellen smiled.

“Okay! We’ll be back at twenty hundred. Thanks, Moms!” The girl and the android took off, leaving the two of us alone in the mess hall.

“I’m not crying,” I told Ellen. “It’s just the ship’s climate controls are fucked up and it’s raining on my face.”

Ellen laughed once, burst into tears, and threw her arms around me.

“She called us her _moms_ ,” I said, stunned. “I know this morning I said we should raise Newt as our daughter, but it suddenly seems so real. I dunno if I’m really ready for that.”

“We’ve got time to figure that out,” Ellen replied. “We still don’t know if Newt has any living relatives back on Earth. If she does…”

That reminder made me suddenly read to be a mom. The thought of anyone else, even extended family, raising Newt made my stomach lurch.

“We’ll worry about that if and when it happens,” I said.

Ellen just nodded.

“For now, Ellen, we’re her Moms.”


End file.
